


Fantasies

by acidtonguejenny



Series: Dragon Age Kinkmeme Fills [11]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:25:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10061684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acidtonguejenny/pseuds/acidtonguejenny
Summary: "But there's mine. Now it's your turn, dear Commander. What is your favorite fantasy?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for a prompt on the DA Kinkmeme, [found here](http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/16500.html?thread=64247412#t64247412). 
> 
> Please, please feel free to suggest a better title x.x
> 
> Warning for discussion of rape fantasies, but it's incredibly sanitized.

Cullen has been acting like a fool recently, and it's all Dorian's fault. How else would he find himself here, canoodling like a teenager beneath a bush in the garden and passing a bottle of sweet wine between them? Giggling, no less.

"I must say, I imagined something much more...ah, more."

Words escaped him. His oration skills left something to be desired on a normal day, let alone when they were nearing the end of the third bottle. He waved a hand vaguely to illustrate his point.

They were sprawled together in the grass, hidden from a casual observer by the shadow of the hedge they were practically beneath. Cullen was, for once, dressed down in old britches, worn soft, and a simple shirt. Dorian seemed to approve, if the way he had plastered himself along Cullen's side was any indication. 

He had leaves in his hair, and Cullen had not told him so. He was inordinately amused by his little secret.

Dorian huffed, feigning annoyance. His breath smelled of wine. "I apologize. I was unaware I had such lofty expectations to live up to."

"Were you really?" Cullen asked, skeptical.

Dorian, eyes twinkling, winked. 

"It is very doable, at least." Cullen said, wiggling the arm Dorian lay on to stimulate the blood. "I could put in a word with requisitions. Is there any particular fur you wish to make love on?"

"I'm rather partial to the thought of bear skin, if you can get the smell out." 

"I'm sure something can be done." Cullen said gravely. 

"But there's mine. Now it's your turn, dear Commander. What is your favorite fantasy?"

Cullen opened his mouth, and closed it. He stole the bottle from Dorian's loose-fingered grip and drank from it.

He did not have to think about it. He only had to consider how to share it. 

He peered down at Dorian, considering.

"You won't think me a brute and never ask me to help steal Leliana's wine again?" He asked. "Because I did enjoy that, though I haven't yet considered how she might retaliate."

"Ooh, now I'm _really_ curious." Dorian said wickedly. His hand was a pleasant weight on Cullen's chest, those nimble mage fingers plucking at his shirt laces. 

"I would never hurt anyone." Cullen said quickly, his nerves trying to get a grip on him through the wine haze. "I don't want to _actually_ do it, just...pretend to."

Dorian came up on his elbow as he babbled. "Do what, amatus?" He asked.

"Ah. Force--someone." 

" _Force_?" Dorian pressed. He'd taken on something very similar to the expression he made when he was close to finding the sought after passage in a book. 

Cullen blanched. "I don't want to say the word r--"

Dorian put a finger over his lips. "I shan't make you, then." And he grinned, arranging himself more on Cullen's chest. His hand dipped beneath Cullen's shirt and stroked the short hairs there. He took a hearty swing off the bottle.

"Tell me, my dear. Describe one to me. May one assume that one's self features in these fantasies?"

Cullen, with his freed arm, reached up and delved his fingers into Dorian's dark hair. 

"It was difficult to be in a room with you, sometimes." He confessed. "It seemed my imagination was frequently" he coughed. "inspired when you were around."

"Go on." Dorian said, in what Cullen thought of as his best harlot husk. 

Cullen closed his eyes to think. He was not lying; Dorian was his muse. There were many to choose from.

"The banquet." He decided. "After the final battle."

"Yes," Dorian urged.

"I imagined catching you in the hall as you returned to your room, and grabbing your wrist." He took Dorian's wrist in a firm grip demonstrably, squeezing a bit. Dorian, if the gathering flush to his cheeks was anything to go by, did not mind. "And pressing you against the wall."

His face was aflame, but he became flushed when he drank, and it was difficult to know how much of that was owed to their libations and how much to bashfulness. Still, he was surprised how easily the words came. 

"Miraculously, the hallway is empty." He said, dry, smiling to match Dorian's. "And you are without any magical defense."

"Poor me. How inconvenient." Dorian idly commented. He crept ever closer, until he was lying on Cullen's chest. His hips rocked lazily, perhaps unconsciously, into Cullen's belly, and their faces were very close. "What next?"

Cullen held Dorian’s hips, guiding his thrusts with a bit more purpose. "Pull your trousers down just enough to get at that glorious arse--"

Dorian groaned against Cullen's neck, where he had been pressing sloppy kisses.

"--and. Well, from there it could go many ways."

"Many ways?" 

"Yes. I could thrust until I spent between your thighs, so it ran down your skin and you had to walk the halls like that. I bring you off against the wall, while you struggled and cursed me as you came."

Cullen slipped a hand down the back of Dorian's pants, his robes rucked up from their rolling on the ground, and groped the swell of one round cheek none too gently, digging with his nails. He met Dorian’s questing mouth in a long kiss. 

Clothing was tugged aside. Parts were squeezed and sucked. Dorian left a rather spectacular suckmark practically on Cullen’s chin, possessive devil that he was.

Cullen tried to flip them, but Dorian resisted. He sat up; Cullen grunted at the sudden weight on his groin. 

Dorian thumped his chest. 

“You’re not done.” He said. “That can’t be all, can it?” 

Cullen blinked at him for a moment, his mind focused on his trousers and Dorian’s trousers and recalling how the fastenings worked. 

“Cullen,” Dorian said in a purr, pushing Cullen’s hair back from his face. “You come on my arse, you bring me off against my will. Surely there’s a third act?”

“Ah.” Cullen said brilliantly. 

Dorian leaned down to whisper, his lips touching Cullen’s ear, “When you bring yourself off to this little fantasy, what do you do? Did you bring something from the table to slick me up? Force that lovely, thick cock of yours into me, covering my mouth to stifle my cries?”

Cullen groaned, and this time successfully rolled Dorian beneath him. They knocked the empty wine bottle aside and it rolled noisily across the cobbles.

“I desperately need to fuck you.” He said between kisses. He looked after the bottle with a frown.

“If we make it.” Dorian said, reading his look. “And that’s a big _if_ , then I can promise you I’m going to immediately go to sleep.”

“I thought as much.” Cullen said.

“We’ll have a quick frisk tonight, and perhaps later we can discuss fantasies coming to life.”

Cullen’s eyes snapped back to Dorian, who was grinning like a leech, and who had made headway on those pesky fastenings while he was distracted. 

“I do love you.” He said.

“Of course you do, amatus.” Dorian said. “I’m brilliant.”


End file.
